Friday, July 9, 2010


It was August and Colin and I sat in the archives slowly freezing to death. First our extremities went, then simple things like filling out request slips became onerous because our hands were going. “Wow, is it cold in here.” I told the blue-faced archivist, herself wrapped in a bulky cardigan. She nodded and a shelf of frost fell from her considerable eyebrow and skittered across the desk. After four hours of this meat locker we got into the car, serendipitously parked in the sun, and defrosted like two bugs frozen solid to a tree branch awaiting the spring thaw.

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